Timothy McGee and the Annoying War Hero
by Ria Rose
Summary: The MCRT is about to go through some changes, and not the hot flashes kind! Magic, Death Eaters hell bent on revenge, a new wizard, and an annoying one, crash courses, and Gibbs doing just about whatever it takes to get his caffeine fix, whatever happens, this is one for the grand-kids!
1. Chapter 1

Timothy McGee and the Annoying War Hero

Summary: The MCRT is about to go through some changes, and not the hot flashes kind! Magic, Death Eaters hell bent on revenge, a new wizard, and an annoying one, crash courses, and Gibbs doing just about whatever it takes to get his caffeine fix, whatever happens, this is one for the grandkids!

AN: Before we start this trippy little journey, I'd like to personally thank you for taking any interest in it at all. It's not your, ahem, usual crossover. I take liberties with both series (such as Quidditch being played in the US and not that other…thing. If baseball and football/soccer are the same worldwide, why wouldn't Quidditch be? They have the world cup, you telling me the US doesn't partake? I reject your reality and substitute my own!), and with these teensy changes, I have no shame. Will there be errors? Probably. I'm not perfect nor is this some serious story that's going to bring me any money, so why stress over minute details. Skirting along with the aforementioned, my blanket disclaimer is that I own nothing recognizable. I make NO money, nor do I intend to.

The idea came to me…a thousand years ago. Seriously. This is a long time coming. I've had so many ideas for this piece of crap that I'm having a hard time choosing what to use and what to discard.

The first part of this jumbled up bit of storytelling isn't much. I don't go into much detail because that's not what the story is about. Save for the first little prelude (which serves as a minor introduction to a well-loved character that you'll probably figure out right away), the rest is simply a foundation for this wackiness. This takes place not long after Ziva left since I'm not the biggest fan of hers, sorry, no bashing though, I promise. I adore Ellie but I'm not writing her in yet. Also, let's suspend reality for just a second and pretend that the events leading up to and the beginning of season 11 happened months earlier.

My style is bizarre; I tend to bounce back and forth through certain tones dependent of what I'm looking to project; know that I do this willingly and purposely. I also dart back and forth between serious drama and comedy—I refer to this technique in my own terms of real-life-situational-movements. I'm probably completely wrong in how I go about it. Whatever. It works for me and since I have some original shorts published, apparently it's not awful.

This is me shutting up. Enjoy.

 ** _A Prelude of Sorts:_**

Once upon a time, there was a young boy. He was full of curiosity and was very mischievous. His mother, a beautiful full blooded witch by the name of Sophie Francis, had shown him the wonders of magic, how to bloom the most beautiful flowers, how to fix a tear in a silk dress shirt, and the best way to keep wine cold while it swished in a long stemmed glass. She was his world.

His father, a muggle, could not fully grasp the concept of magic. He drank too much, and he yelled much more. But through even his darkest faults, he thought Sophie Francis a beautiful ethereal creature and their son an almost fairy-like extension of her.

For eight wondrous years, they lived in relative peace, far from her hate-filled family in England, and far from the frightening war that was taking place in the magical community.

This bright little boy looked forward to the day that he would return to the United Kingdom and attend the prestigious school his mother called her alma mater. She would hold him in her arms, smelling of jasmine and lavender, and tell him of how everything was taken care of—things he didn't understand quite yet!—and that he would one day stand upon the same bridge and in the same Great Hall as her many moving photographs.

They were a very flawed but rather happy little family.

Until a brisk and grey September day, the twentieth, to be exact, at precisely half past three in the afternoon when the men in the silver masks broke down the big door to his happy little castle.

"Run, my son! Run!"

The world crumbled around him and he begged his little feet to move faster. They took him as far as the black Victorian cabinet at the end of the foyer. When the doors slammed shut behind him, he knew it was his mother's doing. His beautiful mother who could have run to save her own life but chose instead to hide him away with a kiss pressed quickly to his temple and a muttered prayer.

"Momma!"

From behind the dark mesh of the cabinet doors, he played witness to the masked figures as they turned their wands towards the beautiful Sophie Francis and with a rush of green light, her life was gone.

They forgot all about the little half-blood hidden in the cabinet, crying over the first woman to break his heart.

Nothing was the same after that.

 ** _1\. Timothy McGee Doesn't Really Get it, But Okay, Sure!_**

The heavy parchment in Timothy McGee's hands fell away to land on his kitchen counter silently. It was a frightening prospect. A joke, perhaps? But, no, the woman—a witch!—that sat at his small table sipping coffee was far too real. So was the strange magic she had shown to him.

Magical? Him? It was obscene.

Tim swallowed, once, twice, and three times, before turning to face her once again. "It's real. All of it? And I'm, I mean, I.."

Her smile was friendly, "Yes. See? You won't have that much history to learn, now do you?"

He swallowed again, that was not exactly comforting at the moment; he was well aware of far too much of that particular history; it wasn't all sugar and rainbows. "When, uhm, when do the, uh, classes start?" That did not mean he didn't want in though!

"September first."

"Of course they do." He couldn't help the giddy chuckle that bubbled up his throat. Honestly, the first? Would there be a shiny red steam engine to take as well?

"No train, though." _Damn_. Her laugh was fluttery and pleasant. "For adults, it's a tad different," she began, "Your classes will run more like a college semester. Quite a bit will be crammed into one class. Whereas the estimated projection for graduation as a minor is seven years, for our adult education courses, it's typical for the student to complete his or her course work in four years. We assume, since you weren't able to attend one of our schools as a child, that though this is all new to you, you'll be able to quicker learn. You did attend MIT? From what I've read, I don't think this will be difficult for you."

He shook his head and laughed softly, no, this was going to be cake. He knew it. He was Timothy McGee; he was smart and not raised in a cupboard. No, that wasn't right. If it's all actually real, then that was a truly real abused little boy. Nothing to joke about, can I meet him, can I meet him, can I meet him?!

 _Stop right there, young man!_ Interestingly enough, Tim's inner voice tended to bounce back and forth between his grandmother's and Gibbs. She was currently winning.

Shaking his head to clear his ridiculous thoughts, he asked, "But, my parents, they, uhm, I don't understand. They said no?"

"It's not uncommon," she sympathized, "which is why we wait until you're an adult and reach out to you then. Unfortunately, the fact that it's not uncommon means quite the extensive list of untrained muggleborns in the country; we're not always able to get to you as soon as you turn eighteen. The average age is mid-to-late twenties. Your, uh, generation, is a bit of a baby boom though. We do apologize for the tardiness."

He nodded, even though he didn't fully understand. "How does it all work, Miss, uh…I'm sorry, what's your name again?"

"Clarinda. Antoinette Clarinda." Her small nod told him she was used to having to repeat her name. "I work for the COM, that is, the Congress of Magic, the American equivalent to the Ministry of Magic."

"Right."

"In two to three weeks you will, by owl, receive a course list, billing statements, and a supplies list. With that will be directions to Origin Alley, which is the American answer to—"

"Diagon Alley."

"See? Look at how much you already know. On it is listed six dates and times, at those listed, and only those listed, will be another representative of the COM to let you in and instruct you how to do so yourself for future reference. It could be me, or someone else. Usually a volunteer. You will enter; buy your wand, a standard set of robes, and your school supplies such as texts and quills. On the first of September, at six in the morning, a portkey will be sent to you. That will take you to the school, I believe the conservatory chosen for you is NYAM—New York Academy of Magic. They are night and weekend courses, so your job should not interfere. If it does, well, we'll take care of that."

He frowned, "Take care of that?"

"Nothing bad, don't worry. But you will be allowed to attend."

"Right, okay. Uhm. Good. I think."

She smiled and stood, swallowing the rest of her coffee. "I think that is everything. Any questions, don't hesitate to contact us."

"Uh, how exactly does one do that?"

"By owl, of course!" And with a crack, she was gone, leaving Timothy McGee alone in his kitchen, staring down at a letter and a future right out of the Harry Potter books.

Abby was going to freak.

 ** _2\. Abby Joins the Not Getting it Fun and Gets Too Excited_**

Abby did freak.

"You're a WHAT?"

Tim really couldn't be blamed for diving right into that opening. "Yer a wizard, Harry!" The stinging slap to his arm was worth it though. He gave her a cheeky grin, "It was right there, Abs, you walked right into that one!"

She made a face, "Yeah, I kinda did. So, like, you're not pulling my leg, right? Because if you are, Timmy, I will be forced to murder you in the most ungentlemanly way and not even Harry Potter can save your ass!"

"Abs, on my honor as a boy scout! I swear! This is real! I was given permission to tell my family. And, uh, you're family, so, yeah, I'm telling you. 'Cause you're family."

She raised her eyebrows, "Smooth like butter, McGee."

"Thanks, Abby. But you need to swear to me, you need to…to…swear on Kate's grave, Abigail! You can't tell a single soul!"

"KATE'S GRAVE, I SHOULD RIP YOUR EAR OFF AND FEED IT TO TONY!"

He knew he would pay for that one but it was imperative that she fully comprehend the seriousness of keeping this whole magic thing secret. And, as expected, it took quite a bit to convince her to not go blabbering to everyone they knew. She was insanely jealous, of course, but let her happiness at her Timmy's luck override it. Besides, if she went ape shit, he would NEVER allow her to accompany him to Origin Alley and, as it stood, he needed the help. Tim was in way over his head. And, duh, she just HAD to go!

In the end, he made her cross her heart, swear to wizard god, swear on Kate's grave and Jenny's, swear on Bert, swear on Gibbs' silver hair, the Israeli flag, and Tony's…that really didn't bear repeating. But he made her swear to shut her yap. And she had to show both of her hands while doing so, no take backs, and no backsies.

On the morning of June 10th, they set out together for the several hour journey into Manhattan and into the bustling streets of Chelsea, where, behind an almost decrepit looking diner, a man in an emerald green robe opened the entrance to Origin Alley for them.

It was…everything Tim could have hope for. For a moment he felt as if HE were Harry Potter walking into Diagon Alley for the first time, just, instead of a half giant, he had a visibly excited goth by his side. Time, as it had not seemed in the universe he so often delved into with his books and movies, had most definitely touched here. Though there was the whole Charles Dickens thing going on, the modern world coexisted. A young witch with an iPod blasting ran past them just as a gust of wind blew an old man's top hat right from his head.

"This. Is so. Cool." Abby breathed, taking Tim's hand and squeezing it. "Come on, we need to get to the bank! I WANNA SEE A DRAGON." And they set off, past Maury's Ice Cream Shoppe, and Gladrags Wizardwear, Alberto's Owl Emporium, Brandy Apothecary, Quality Quidditch NEW YORK, Mangino's (a rather dark store with a large wand on the sign that made both newcomers almost scream with excitement), Julie's Housewares, and OH!

"Weasley's Wizard Weezes?!"

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!"

"Bank! Abby! We need to go to the bank first!"

"I wanna look! I wanna see! I'll just DIE if I can't go in!"

It took all of Tim's willpower to pull her away and continue down the alley, not just because it was hard to say no to _her_ but because HE would die if he didn't go inside as well!

Sadly, though the Gringotts of America was also run by goblins, there was no crazy cart ride to open his new vault and they saw no sign of any dragons. Instead, they took an elevator down, down, down, way below the subway systems and a small boat on an unhealthy looking underground river took them to vault 3657, the newly opened vault of Timothy McGee, where his cash was effortlessly converted into gallons, sickles, and knuts.

He was so excited he almost threw up.

The goblin was not amused.

Upon resurfacing, he was handed an ordinary looking credit card engraved with his name and birth date and GRIGOTTS in large lettering. On the back, instead of a black magnetic strip, was a rune.

"We've updated." The goblin told him, and ushered both out of the bank with an annoyed grunt.

Outside, a bit shell shocked on the marble steps, Tim stared at the gold card in his hands, awed at the whole experience.

"What a little jerk!" Abby exclaimed, then after a beat, "Just like in the books!"

Ah, there was his unflappable friend!

Tim pulled out his wallet, slipped the card into one of the slots, and replaced it in his back pocket. From his jacket, he tugged his list. "Okay, so, I'm guessing a wand first?"

"A'duh, Timmy! GIMME THAT!" She swiped the list and read it aloud in a voice clearly meant to be authoritative:

 _1 Wand_

 _1 set or more Casual Robes_

 _1 pair Protective Gloves (dragonhide)_

 _Suggested: One Winter Cloak_

 _1 Cauldron (standard size 2)_

 _1 set Glass Phials_

 _1 Telescope_

 _1 set scales_

 _Quills_

 _Parchment_

Texts:

 _Beginning Magic by Armanda Adello_

 _Defensive Strategy for Beginners (6_ _th_ _Edition) by A.D. Jr._

 _A Beginner's Guild to Magical Beasts (56_ _th_ _Edition) by Desmond Dubois_

 _A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot_

 _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Lord (3_ _rd_ _Edition) by Hermione Granger_ (She squealed, reading this one.)

 _Herbology Volume I by N. Longbottom_ (Yup, this one too.)

 _Introduction to Charms by Anne D. Smith_

 _Introduction to Transfiguration by M.M & A.D. Jr._

 _Potions Volume I &II by Sandeep Singh_

 _Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling_

 _The Unveiling—A Muggleborn's Introduction by Elise McLean III_

 _It is suggested but not required to procure an owl for correspondence and/or another magical pet._

 _All practical equipment to be brought on the first day of classes and stored in the Adult Ed classrooms as NO PRACTICAL MAGIC WITHOUT SUPERVISION IS TO BE PERFORMED OUTSIDE OF SCHOOL UNTIL GRADUATION._

"Oh snap." She snickered, upon completion of her reading. "They're gonna send your butt straight to Azkaban! Gibbs can't even get you out of that!"

"Abby, they're not going to send me to—"

"OKAY, LET'S GET YOU A WAND!"

By the time they settled in at the hotel that night, Tim had all the supplies needed to start his first year of adult education at NYAM—including a wand that chose him (13 inches, unicorn hair, and slightly springy!)—and Abby kept elongating the school's name to Nye-candied-yams. Tim was completely over it, completely exhausted, and completely enamored with his new wand and new owl, an adorable little guy the forensic scientist named Agent Owl. Abby thought it was suiting and adorable and really, why would he be shocked at this at all?

The summer began as normal and a slew of cases kept Tim from digging through all of his new school books with any sort of direction other than flipping through occasionally in marvel. It wasn't until the second week of July that things got a little weird and he began to question more than just the full validity of the supposedly fictional Harry Potter series.

At least on September first he could say with confidence that he hadn't practiced magic without supervision. Because he certainly had a lot of supervision…and a crash course in magic!

 ** _3\. In Which Tim Thinks Tony Has Some 'Splaining to Do!_**

The ding of the elevator was followed by Tony angrily spitting into his cell phone, "Charlie, call off the freaking hounds! _I'll be there_! …NO! Your mother too! …SHE'S NOT MY MOM! YOU DEAL WITH HER! …Don't…don't tell her I said that. She's my mom too. Charlie…CHARLIE…SHE'S MY MOM TOO DON'T HANG UP ON…ARGH!" More than a bit ticked, he threw his bag down. "Why did I convince him to get a cell phone? What's wrong with me? I'm going to be made into one of his mom's mince meat pies, I know it. My life is over! I'm doomed. Tim! Say my eulogy, please?"

Tim barely glanced up from his computer, "Not getting involved, Tony!"

"I thought you loved me," Tony mumbled, petulantly.

"Now, why would anyone do that, DiNozzo?" Gibbs snarked, coming around the corner with a cup of coffee in his hand. He gave Tony a gentle and conspicuous look that only his SFA would catch, letting him know he didn't mean it maliciously.

"Not a clue, Boss, no one would ever love me, Boss." Gibbs grunted and smacked him upside the head. Tony gave a soft smile, "Love you too, Boss."

"Save it, DiNozzo! Dead marine in an empty warehouse downtown, let's go!"

"On your six, Boss!"

Tim's smirk was wiped off of his face expertly by a well timed smack to the back of his head.

The warehouse was only recently abandoned; boxes of unknown junk polluted the floors and shelves and only a barely there layer of dust had yet to settle on anything. When they entered, it was to silence. No responding officer and no body.

"Something's fishy, Boss."

"Ya think, DiNozzo? McGee, clear the back room, Tony, get the right, I got the left."

The trio split up. When the third call of "CLEAR!" sounded, Gibbs slipped his gun away. They met in the middle.

"Right warehouse, Boss?" Tony asked, his eyes still skirting around the room.

Gibbs nodded and looked at McGee.

"This is it, Boss; I had dispatch text me the address."

Tony said, "Phony call?" Gibbs shook his head. Something didn't feel right. "What's that famous gut of yours saying, Boss?"

Gibbs opened his mouth to speak but the appearance of three fast moving swirls of black smoke cut him off; his mouth dropped. McGee blanched and Tony yelled, "GET DOWN!" He pulled them both down just as the three streaks converged above them. They flew off to block the only exit. And materialized into three humans. In cloaks. With silver masks.

Both Gibbs and McGee moved to stand in front, one out of protection, the other thinking they were after him. Both were blocked by their SFA.

Tony stood, one arm out keeping his partners behind him and the other pointed forward, armed with not his gun, but a dark, gleaming wand and fire in his eyes.

 **#####**

Okay, I'm so sorry, I know, my weirdness knows absolutely no bounds, but, in the off chance you're like me and actually enjoyed this, please, review and let me know. I'm almost done with the second part and I'll get it up within the next few days. As for length, it may be about five uploads total, I say uploads because I haven't exactly sorted this into chapters, for whatever logic my brain decided to use. This is probably about five years, at least, in the making, so, you know, be kind. :)


	2. Chapter 2

Timothy McGee and the Annoying War Hero

Summary: The MCRT is about to go through some changes, and not the hot flashes kind! Magic, Death Eaters hell bent on revenge, a new wizard, and an annoying one, crash courses, and Gibbs doing just about whatever it takes to get his caffeine fix, whatever happens, this is one for the grandkids!

 _Recap: Tony stood, one arm out keeping his partners behind him and the other pointed forward, armed with not his gun, but a dark, gleaming wand and fire in his eyes._

 _PART TWO:_

 ** _1\. Tony: Warrior Princess_**

Tim let out a long held breath. He un-clipped his gun, but kept his arm at his side. There was a fleeting thought of wishing he had his wand with him, but it was gone in a moment; he didn't even know how to do anything!

Gibbs was looking at Tony with a strange glare in his eyes, like he knew that his second had been keeping something big from him; his gun was out, pointed forwards. For a moment, no one moved.

"Protecting muggles, Anthony? And here I was thinking you couldn't get any lower." The sleek and low voice was tinged with a posh British accent. He brought his wand up and passed it over his face, smoothly removing his mask and revealing his ugly mug.

Tony's body tightened. "Jordana."

"And we meet again. How quaint."

The two behind Jordana removed their mask as well, revealing ugly, scarred and twisted faces. The one to the right bowed mockingly, "Balinski." The other made no move other than to open his mouth.

"Petrov."

"Now, dear Anthony," Jordana spoke, stepping closer, "why don't you introduce us to your disgusting muggle friends?"

"Go to hell! STUPIFY!" The red curse sprang from his wand and shot toward Jordana who managed to dive out of its way in the nick of time, it did, however, hit Petrov, sending him flying back about ten feet with a great blast and the upsetting of dust.

There was a slight lull before a hell broke loose. Curses, defensive and offensive, were cast both wordlessly and not; Tim could barely even keep up.

Tony blocked adeptly, expertly casting _protegos_ around Gibbs and Tim and firing off stunners and reducing spells, screaming out a disarming spell that sent Ballinski screaming after him to retrieve his wand. He was within shooting distance and Tim didn't hesitate; Tony was fending off a blast of boxes, hitting them with his hands and with spells, sending them flying back at Jordana and Petrov, and completely unaware of Ballinski.

The bang was loud and foreign sounding against the tirade of spells and Ballinski fell, dead, to the floor.

Jordana heaved a great scream, "CRUCIO!"

Tony moved too late and the spell hit Gibbs in the chest. He collapsed in screaming agony; Tim had never heard anything like it. He dropped to knees besides his Boss and reached out to him, looking at Tony in pleading, but the SFA had already lunged, knocking Jordana to the floor and landing three square hits to his face.

The curse, which had only last a few bitter seconds, stopped and Gibbs gasped, grabbing Tim's arm. "Boss, you're okay, you're going to be okay!"

Jordana growled as Petrov hauled Tony off of him, sending a stupify that sent him skirting backwards on the floor. Tony used the momentum to propel himself to his knees, "SECTUMSEMPRA!" And Petov went down with an anguished cry, a protruding gash opened up across his torso and Jordana aimed at Gibbs again, "CRUCIO!"

"NO!" It was without a thought to himself that Tony lunged forward and took the curse.

His arms flailed out, right handing gripping his wand so tightly that his knuckles turned white, his neck and back arched and he screamed, the sound cutting through both Gibbs and Tim in the worst way, slicing them open with their friend's pain.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Gibbs cried out, falling over Tony in attempt to shield him even though Tim knew it was fruitless. "Stop it! You're killing him!" Tim had never heard his boss sound so desperate. He had never heard him show such anguish and it hurt to bear witness to it. "Please!"

The curse continued for another half a minute before Jordana let up, grinning wickedly, the devil in his eyes. "Have you not yet learned that taking this curse to save some unclean pile of rubbish only eventually leads to their death anyway? Tsk, tsk, Anthony, what would that filthy mudblood Galina have to say of your refusal to learn from past mistakes?"

"Don't. You dare. Speak her name." Tony was grappling for breath, heaving and shaking. He tried to sit up but only ended up flat on his back once more.

Jordana leaned down and ripped his wand from his hands, sending it sliding off to the other side of the room. He aimed his wand at Tim and Gibbs. "Back up."

They held their ground, glaring at him, until Tony choked out, "Go. It's okay." He and Gibbs connected their eyes for a brief moment and Gibbs nodded, stepping back and pulling a protesting Tim with him. "Ballinski. Killed by a muggle," Tony laughed as a bit of blood dripped from the side of his mouth. "How novel."

"Be silent!" Jordana demanded. "I would have thought better of you, Anthony. You come from a long line of proud purebloods. Even after you rejected us, we would have taken you, filthy half breed that you are. Talented. Powerful. But so utterly stupid. And now, here you are, gallant Order member, war hero, yes? And once again about to die." He lifted his wand. "Avada!"

"This is for Sarah!" The shot rang out, splitting though the quiet like a lightning bolt, sending Jordana tumbling back in shock, a red patch growing larger on his chest. Tony finally managed to sit up. "Kedavra, bitch." BANG! And one more to the middle of his forehead and Jordana hit the floor.

With a pain filled groan, Tony held his hand out. His wand slowly rolled a few inches. "Ugh! Come on!" It shot forward and landed firmly in his grasp with a resounding thud. He pointed it toward their bags, "Acc— Damn. I'm wiped. Mcgoo, my bag, please."

"What the HELL just happened?" Gibbs shouted as Tim scurried away to grab Tony's backpack.

"A lot of things that can't be explained right this minute." Tony said as Tim returned with his bag. "McGee, front pocket, all the way down to the back left-handed side you'll feel a wooden box, take it out." Tim nodded and reached his hand in. And in. And in.

"Tony?"

"Just get it, Elflord." Tony said with a pointed look. McGee just rolled his eyes and searched as Tony moved his wand and conjured a Patronus.

"Wow." Was all Tim could say as the silvery Lassie dog began to gallop around Tony. A pointed glare sent him back to searching for the box.

Gibbs looked gob smacked, "What the hell is that?!"

"That's a Patronus, Boss." They watched as Tony whispered a message to it and sent it away. "Reinforcements are on the way."

Finally, Tim was able to tug the box out of Tony's knapsack. It was old and weathered, solid oak and about a foot long, eight inches wide, and ten inches deep. There was no way it should have been able to fit in the front pocket of Tony's bag. He snapped it open and five tiers of shelving opened up; it was filled with long and slender phials, all labeled in Tony's handwriting. The SFA pulled two identical ones from the second tier, handing one to Gibbs and using his teeth to pop the cork of the other, downing it in one gulp.

"For the nerves, after a whirl with the torture curse. Drink up, Gibbs, it'll help." Gibbs eyed it carefully, but popped it open and drank it, cringing at the taste. "Yeah, it does leave something to be desired." Almost instantly, Gibbs felt a warm sensation roll through his body and the residual pain from the curse melted away; he was left with a dull ache he could tolerate. Tony smiled at him and handed another phial to McGee, "Make sure he drinks this in an hour, it'll get rid of the rest of the complications."

"What about you, Tony?" Tim asked, helping Gibbs get him standing.

"This isn't my first rodeo." After a beat, he added, "You didn't seem at all surprised by your favorite series suddenly springing into reality."

" Ah, no. I, uh, got some news a while back, that, uhm, I'm going to be taking some adult courses, I guess? In the fall."

"You're a freaking wizard? And I never knew? Damn. Well, welcome to the club."

Gibbs balked, "What club? Will somebody tell me what the hell is going on here?"

"Uh, well, Boss," Tim started and stopped abruptly as several cracks echoed through the warehouse. He and Gibbs immediately pulled their guns.

"Don't," Tony spoke, his hand outstretched in a placating manner, "Reinforcements." The five new additions to the group rushed forward. A tall back man, two redheaded men, a smartly dressed woman, and a rather disheveled man who looked like he had been abruptly awoken from a nap. They were positively familiar looking.

"Tony!" One of the red heads spoke, "What the bloody hell happened? Had to be trans-Atlantic, didn't it?"

"You okay, mate?" The disheveled one asked.

"I'm fine. Three Death Eaters just attacked me, never thought I'd say that again! But, hey, bright side! One out of two!" He pointed to the body of Jordana.

The group turned and the woman gasped. "He's dead?"

"Oh yes. I killed him muggle style."

"Insult to injury, eh?" The second redhead asked.

Tony nodded, "Yeah. Okay, uh, introductions are in order, I guess. Tim, you freak and you will never see those adult ed classes, comprende?" Tim nodded, already having an inkling as to where this was going. "Okay, ah, this George," He pointed to the first redhead that spoke, "Ron, Kingsley, Harry, and this lovely and sassy lady is Hermione."

"I think I'm gonna puke."

"If you do that, aim for George, it might be an improvement." Tony whispered with a chuckle.

"Hey, I heard that!" George glared.

"Ah, sorry, I thought I got the, uh," he gestured to own ear, "the good side."

George snorted and Hermione groaned. She smacked both of their arms, "we need to get out of here now."

"I'll stay behind and wait for the cleanup crew," Kingsley said. "You all be careful and Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"Nice job on getting Jordana."

"Aw, shucks, it was nothing."

"You all right, Tony?" Harry asked, looking up at his friend and knowing exactly how bad it must have been, regardless of how cathartic it may have felt.

"I'm fine, Potter. Let's blow this popsicle stand." Tony said, feigning his strength. "Hermione, can you take Tim? Turns out we have an untrained wittle wizard among us, he needs his wand, we'll have to teach him a few defensive spells just in case. One of you, if you're brave, gets Gibbs," He gestured to the dour man who had stood silently and protectively at his side the whole time. "I would but, ah, I don't think I can handle a passenger right at the moment."

George asked, "Tony, are you okay to apparate right now? Even by yourself?"

"My place," Tony ignored him, "Then you can explain to me what the hell is going on because," he chuckled dryly as he stuffed his potions case back in his bag and retrieved Tim's, "just like Timmy here didn't seem shocked about magic, you guys aren't exactly seeming to be shocked at the resurrection of a thought to be dead super secret sorority." Tim gratefully accepted his own backpack.

No one answered him, instead, Hermione instructed Tim to picture standing in his living room and she took his arm and disapparated. Harry took Gibbs arms and looked up at the man without a drop of fear. 'Damn, Potter,' Tony thought, 'maybe you do have a deathwish.'

With a crack, they too were gone. That left Tony with two Weasleys who had apparently mastered their mother's death glare. Tony gave them a cheeky grin, "See ya home, boys!" and was gone.

Kingsley, who was on the other side of the room examining the body of Petrov, gave them an understanding look. Tony was Tony, after all.

 ** _2\. In Which Gibbs Vomits Like a Champ and Abby Meets an Idol_**

His couch had never looked so inviting, so when Tony appeared, he wasted no time in dropping down with a sigh. "Where's Gibbs?"

Harry made a face, "In the bathroom, I think getting sick. Don't think he likes me much, mate."

Ron and George appeared as Tony said, "He doesn't like not being in control and apparating as a side along, yeah, not in control. He'll get over it."

"Using your floo, mate, gotta tell mum to expect some company," Ron said, tossing some floo powder and thrusting his head into the flames.

"Company? The hell?"

"We weren't shocked, Tony, because," Harry started, pausing only for Hermione who apparated in with a green looking Tim. He addressed him as he finished, "The Death Eaters have been active lately, attacking Order members, we, we, uhm, we lost Angela."

"Christ." Tony mourned. "Why wasn't I informed?" He pulled Tim on the couch next to him. For his part, Tim just grunted in appreciation and closed his eyes.

"Well," Hermione sputtered, "As a muggle liaison you've had your plate full. What, with NCIS and the special missions the COM and the Ministry have had you on, we, well, we also thought you'd be safe over here in America. We were obviously wrong."

"Liaison?"

The group turned to see Gibbs leaning on the door frame to the bathroom, looking as if he wasn't just heaving up whatever coffee he had consumed that day.

"My loyalty is first and foremost NCIS, Gibbs, it's not like I could tell you any of this." He gave Gibbs an apologetic look then snapped his head around to face the others, "And yes, you guys should have told me! Coming to America didn't save my mom, why would it save me?"

"You're right," Harry said. "You should have been informed. But there's nothing we can do about it now. The three of you need to come with us for your safety until we eradicate this mess."

"Eradicate? Seriously, mate?" Ron balked, "'Mione give you a thesaurus?"

"It's called reading; you may want to try it some time, Ronald!" She scolded.

"Enough!" George chastised, "We need to go. Anyone that knows of magic in your whole NCIS life has to come with, just in case. So, both of them need to pack bags and we need to hit the road."

"Already done for Tim," Hermione said, gesturing to the bag in his hand.

"I'll take Gibbs to his house to get his things."

"I'm not going anywhere, DiNozzo!"

"That's where you're wrong, Boss." Tony spoke, waving his wand and magically packing two bags for himself. "This isn't like the bad guys we face every day. Sure, a gun can kill them too but they can kill you just as fast with something you _cannot_ block. Now give me your arm," he snapped, standing and holding his hand out.

For a moment, Gibbs looked mutinous but in the end, he sighed, knowing that Tony was right and that he just had to trust him on this one.

"Meet us at The Burrow."

"Wait!" Tim's head snapped up so quickly it was liable to fall off. "There's someone else who knows. About magic, I mean."

"Tim, I swear to God, if you say Abby and she's in danger because you can't follow rules I promise I will superglue everything you own to your forehead!" Tony rounded on him. Gibbs was looking just as pissed, stepping further in the room and standing next to Tony.

"They said I could tell family!"

"Oh my God. GO! NOW! To NCIS and get her! Hermione," Tony flapped his arms in her general direction, "get him there, get her stuff, and get back here! Keep that knucklehead out of any more trouble!"

In her lab, Abby was blissfully ignorant. She was filling out her stock forms and bobbing her head to her music. When Tim walked in with a strange woman in tow, she had no idea until her lab went silent.

"Hey! I haven't even gotten ANY evidence yet, you can't possibly be expecting anything NOW!"

"Not here for that, Abs."

"Timmy! I thought you were Gibbs!" Her head popped around the corner of her monitor. "Who's that?"

"Abigail Scuito? I'd like you to meet Hermione Granger."

"What."

Tim grinned, "She's gonna be your knight in shining armor because we got into a bit of trouble and we need to go. So, let's go pack you a bag because we're going to the UK!" Making it sound like an adventure seemed like the best course of action.

"What." Abby's eyes were wide and Tim could tell that she was on the verge of squealing.

"Yeah, funny story, Tony is wizard who was apparently part of the Order of the Phoenix and oh, the crime scene was fake and Death Eaters attacked us, so, we gotta go, NOW."

Abby stood and put her hand out, "Wait. Tony. DiNozzo? Our Tony? Who has no clue about anything Harry Potter related?"

"Yeah, he lied. Abby, now!"

Hermione gave a sympathetic smile, "We can explain it all later, I promise. But given that you know, we need to keep you safe as a precaution, please, trust us."

"You actually do resemble Emma Watson."

Hermione laughed, "You mean, she resembles me! Yes, they chose the actors well, witches and wizards were involved in the whole process, trust me, but can we go?"

"I have to turn my babies off!"

"Allow me," with a gentle wave of her wand, Abby's machines shut down, properly too. Mollified, she grabbed her purse.

"Lead the way!" As they started out of the lab, she couldn't hold it in any longer, "Can I meet Harry Potter? And Ron? Are you two married yet? Oh my God, can I meet Crookshanks?!" The elevator dinged and Tim dropped his head into his hands.


End file.
